Crossing Paths
by Hiccstrid1620
Summary: No one thinks the fictional can come to life. The mystical fantasies that have us romanticizing vampires and werewolf's or the untold horrors of lore and science fiction that keep us up at night. But we can, we know what happens when people play with life's puppet strings as though it were a marionette. Percy and Annabeth fight their own world of monsters, on their own.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first actual multi chapter Percabeth story. I do have another one on my account but I think that this story will be a lot better and better written. Now, this is based off of a picture of Percabeth but my image loader absolutely hates me so, no picture but this story I very self explanatory. You guys will have to bear with me because Percy and Annabeth will meet at first. It's a little confusing but it's a great story that I quite surprised myself by coming up with it. Please enjoy!

-…

Annabeth POV (Age 7)

I ran through the open road, knowing the danger I put myself in but I had to get away. Get away from my family, no. They aren't even family any more. Each day it gets worse and worse, a sickly shade of green has passed over their skin. Every cut, every scrape, never healed. Turning yellow and purple and swelling to the point they have boils every where on their skin.

My family was no longer human.

Changing, morphing into something unnatural. Something terrifying. A movie come to life. I remember the book my daddy got me. Four months ago, people started becoming hot headed and turning ghastly shades of yellow to even green/purple. Biting people, tearing limb from limb and it terrified me. I was small, easy to get, slow. I was weak, they can get me.

I was wrong, I'm fast, I'm cunning, quick witted and smart. Those creatures can't get me. No matter how mundane I thought I was but now I realize there's something about me that makes me different. My dad said he was sorry when he locked the door. He shoved me out of our house.

"Run. Stay away from cities and find someone. Someone to help you. Go-" my father cringed, his hands tightening their hold on the door. The knuckles turning bleach white. His voice was now strained, "Annabeth, go west. New York, there's a place that's saf-"

"I'm sorry." With that he slammed the door. The noise knocking me backwards slightly. He left me, he shut me out. He kicked me out! I'm seven, who am I supposed to get to New York? Find people who aren't. I choked on the word even though I wasn't even talking. The word sinister. Fictional even.

Zombies.

I let the tears run down my face, my hair whipping around my face as I ran. I ran away. Running past every house, every person thinking their down with the flu, every nightmare. Especially spiders, spiders are worse than zombies.

I ran as far as I could for the day, the book clutched in my hand. I could barely read the words that said things like "pathogenic" and "carcinogens". What's that supposed to mean? I mean, I'm smart but I'm seven! The crying had stopped but my face was probably red from running, my eyes probably red and puffy and then my voice raspy. And let's not even mention the killer headache and how sore I am.

My muscles ache. My legs felt like there were thousands of copies of Junie B Jones books were glued to my legs. My favorite book from my First grade library. The sun was slowly setting in the distance. I'm so happy that I live close to the border of California and Nevada, not much to run until I'm outa here. But it was getting late, I go to bed at eight which is really late for me but maybe I'll wait till I get out of California and then rest.

I saw people walking or lying in the middle of the road. Their bodies barely moving but bites and maim marks were everywhere on them. Their moans and whines could be heard from miles away. I can't tear my eyes away, knowing the images are burned in my mind. Blinking even was horrific, the zombie fledglings lying in the ground branded on my eyelids.

I ran, I ran from the zombies. I knew they were behind me but they can't catch me, they haven't turned all the way and the tiniest bit of humanity was still there. They couldn't hurt a little girl.

Annabeth Chase. A survivor, a warrior. A seven year old fighter. Saving herself from zombies on her own. Running across the country to go to some fantasy safe haven her father had told her about. On a mission that'll end soon enough if she takes one wrong step, goes in the wrong place. The responsibility on her shoulders of having to take care of herself.

Five Years later, Manhattan, NY

"Seriously?" I looked around the deserted city. Trash littered the streets. Metro entrances were vandalized beyond recognition. The average decapitated zombie would be tossed in the alleys sometimes but most of them appeared to be in the middle of the road.

"This is worse than Ohio," I muttered to myself. Looking around at the apartment buildings. Looking to see lights or shadows of something. If there was a shadow either a person or zombie was there. Less likely a human but I had my hopes. If there was a shadow though, that meant food and water, hospitality, and sleep.

Safety.

Not a very common adjective anymore to describe America. I had gone to so many places, the mall of America, a trip to Washington DC, the Gateway Arch but there wasn't anybody there except some bratty dog, bellagio hotel and casino, Wrigly Field, Cincinnati Union Terminal and some other places. I don't know why I liked the architecture.

It's permanent, no matter how many zombies are here but the buildings will stay. They can deteriorate but they will always be there, whether rubble or the actual building, the monuments are permanent. That's what I want, something permanent. A home. A life. A person, preferably a boy but still.

Gosh, a boy. I haven't seen a boy in five years, unless you count zombies guys but I don't. I haven't seen another person.

I haven't had human contact in five years, eight months, twenty four days and seven hours.

Unless you count them.

The zombies kept me company I guess you could say. If a person didn't have human contact or hear another human will go insane. But I've heard people. People screaming in pain. People groaning while transforming into the hideous beasts.

That's when I saw the light. Light. Light in an apartment. Shadows, two people. Older women and a child. Child with short hair. A boy! A family!

I couldn't even stop myself. The chances to great of having a chance of safety and familiarity pushed me to run faster up the stairs, being ever so quiet. The window is on the fourth floor and on the very end. I can do this.

I will see someone alive and real and, and healthy.

The stairs weren't even a struggle, I felt no fatigue at all when I climbed up the stairs. I practically flew, skipping two steps at a time. The fourth floor sign was bold and bright. A sign of help. I pressed open the door, hearing groans behind me.

I gotta keep moving.

I raced down the hallway, panting from excitement and expectancy. I knocked on the door. Lightly at first, in case zombies were near. I didn't want to trigger anything. Everything was dead silent and I heard another moan from the stairs.

I got a little nervous and knocked again. Shifting my small pack I stole from a car in Indiana. Small enough to be fast but big enough to hold a small blanket, some food, a water bottle and my book.

The groans got louder and I pulled my knife out. A small dagger I found in Nebraska in a casino. It was sharp enough to maim and long enough to keep some distance but short enough to be held in the belt loops of my jeans. Mostly torn and could be mistaken as shorts and a tank top with a loose jacket.

I knocked on the door again, louder and I heard shuffling. I couldn't tell if it was from the stairs or from the apartment. My eyes darted, looking at the other doors for easy escape routes in case I had to bolt.

Instead of knocking I basically punched the door, "I'm not a zombie! Open the door!" I yelled. I looked behind me to see a zombie, not looking at me but apparently looking for its lost hand. It's wrist was purple and black and had been grotesquely chopped off. He was rather fat and his whole body seemed bloated. His face was red as if he'd been drinking and he walked dizzily, his whole body swayed and seemed ready to fall at any time.

Before he could see me I was pulled in the doorway and the door closed silently. I felt soft hands on my shoulders and I slowly turned around. My blonde hair was blocking my eyes and I couldn't see the person who had pulled me in.

"I'm Sally Jackson. Are you ok?" A soft, feminine voice asked me. I gasped in surprise hearing words from someone other than me was intoxicatingly euphoric. I couldn't help but feel excitement over whelm me.

"I'm Annabeth Chase, I'm from California and I'm not infe-" before I could finish the most important word in the apocalypse, I passed out. Feeling adrenaline course through me because I was actually happy made me go unconscious.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Now, I know that I skipped over the whole time that Annabeth spent with

Thalia and Luke but I purposefully did that because I have an idea for next chapter. I will hopefully post every week but I'm not exactly good at that. At all. But I will do my best! I hope you enjoyed, share with your friends and tell me what you think of the story! Who do you think the zombie was in the hallway, review!

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back, thanks so much for reading this story. Ok, so, Annabeth is finally meeting the Jackson's instead of passing out. I have actually passed out from being super happy, that's what happens when you figure out where you're going for your vacation(a very awesome place). Anyways, remember Annabeth and Percy are twelve. Thx for the reviews on who the zombie was! I'll make sure to ask more questions at the end of chapters. Enjoy!

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Percy POV

My mom rushed to bring the small, blonde girl to our blue velvet couch. Se said her name was Annabeth Chase. Annabeth. A weird name, extremely weird. I had never it heard at school. Well, when I was in school. I hadn't been enrolled for six years.

I was ok with that though. I have ADHD and I'm Dyslexic. Can't sit still, don't understand questions and I can not read, well not easily. Although, this Annabeth girl looked really smart. She had cuts and scrapes everywhere. A couple scars here and there but her face was cute, her curly blonde hair framed her face. She had princess curls, like from the Disney movies. Although not Ariel, my favorite movie ever! Besides Finding Nemo.

"Perseus!" My mom exclaimed. "Go get a blanket," I rushed out of the living room and down the small hallway of our apartment. I haven't seen a girl in forever, well besides my mom but she doesn't count. She's a women not a girl. There's a huge difference. I opened up the hallway closet and looked for a blanket.

Rag, dish towel, sheets, bedspreads, curtains, pillow covers, Blankets!

I grabbed the blue, fluffy blanket and raced back into the living room. My mom muttered a quick thank you and covered the small girl with the blanket. I sat down at the edge of couch, watching the small girl's face twitch. She was rather cute when you look past the cuts and scrapes.

My mom put her hand to the girl- I mean, Annabeth's forehead. Annabeth whole body spasmed but she didn't wake up. My hands started to fidget with nervousness and I bit my lip.

"She's not a zombie is she, mommy?" I asked, my voice high. At least it's not cracking. My mom looked up at me, her eyes were sympathetic and she gave me a small smile.

"Of course, sweetie. See, her scars have healed and she has no open cuts or bruises. She's just fine, only a little shocked is all." My mom's calm, even voice calmed me down and I looked around my living room. Trying to focus on something other than Annabeth, passed out on my couch.(A/N: if only Percy knew what happens to them!)

Our apartment was finally cleaned. No liquor bottles, no poker cards, no alcohol stains, no more Smelly Gabe. My step-dad. My alcoholic step father who I call Smelly Gabe. He reeked of liquor and beer, got drunk all the time, bossed my mom and I around and he hit my mom. Nothing extreme just bruises but if there had been blood, that would have been very bad.

A couple months ago, Smelly Gabe had joined a poker game. He won but everyone thought he had cheated,(he had), but he said he didn't. They beat him up and kicked him out of the casino. When he came home, he had a bite mark on his leg. I didn't even ask, I just went straight in my room and tried to contain my laughter to a minimum of chuckles.

A couple weeks later, he started complaining and becoming grouchier than ever. The bite wasn't healing, turning blue and purple. Definitely infected. Every time I saw it, I shuddered in repulsiveness. It was gross. Bruised, bleeding, puss filled. Just ew.

About two months later, he doesn't get off the couch anymore. Beer, food, bite stains were all over our old blue couch. He barely talked, only moans and groans. Every time he saw me he would growl and spittle would come out of the corner of his mouth. One day, he tried to bite me and it did not end well for him.

Next thing I know, his hand was in my hand. His wrist barely bleeding. He looked at me, his eyes blood red and full of hatred. He growled at me again and lunged at me with more energy he had ever had in his whole life. I was nine, stabbing my step father with a kitchen knife. One of the one you used for slicing tomatoes. His decapitated limb still in my hand. I opened the door, threw the hand and Smelly Gabe chased after it like a dog. I slammed the door, locked it and I slid down the door.

Exasperated. I can remember it just like it was yesterday. My mom explaining what had happened. The zombie apocalypse has actually come to destroy humanity.

I was ok with Smelly Gabe being a zombie though, he deserved it.

"I'm not infected!" Annabeth shot straight up, her hair bouncing to life, framing her face. She startled me so much I fell off the couch. I stood back up and quickly recomposed myself. My cheeks felt slightly hot but other than that, I was fine.

My mom, stood in front of Annabeth and spoke in a calm, even, sweet voice. "Annabeth, you're in Manhattan, New York right now ok. I'm Sally Jackson and this is Percy, he's my son." My mom brought me over, her hands on my shoulders. I grinned and waved to Annabeth. She smiled, a small smile, and waved as well.

"Now, Annabeth. How did you get here? Are there other people or did you drive? Are you alone, how old are you, Sweetheart?" My mom's motherly instincts kicked in. I inwardly groaned. She could be so protective sometimes, even with other children.

"I'm Annabeth Chase, I came here on foot from San Francisco by myself since I was seven. I'm twelve now. I met two people but they left. One of them is dead and the other is turning into a zombie." Annabeth shook her head. "No, there aren't any other people and I'm pretty sure that if there are, they're turning into zombies." Her voice was pretty. Angelic and soft yet firm and serious at the same time. She had that regal look. The way her posture was, how her voice was even, how professionally she talked.

"San Francisco! You must be starving! We'll make some dinner and you can stay here as long as you need to. Oh, poor baby. I'm so sorry. But can you tell me why you left San Francisco to come here?" My mom was immediately ok with taking this girl into our home. I was ok with it too, it can get lonely. I'm not aloud to leave the apartment till I'm 14! Unfair.

Annabeth looked at me, her eyes skimming over my hair, face, body. When she came back up she stopped at my eyes. I looked down and blushed, stupid puberty!

"My dad told me to come here, supposedly there's a safe haven for people who haven't been infected. My whole family was turning so he made me leave. To save my life of course though." Annabeth slowly looked back at my mom, who was nodding her head. As if righting down little notes and lists about Annabeth.

"Ok then, Annabeth. You may stay here until you want to leave but please, stay for the night. Percy gets tired of making packs for emergency vacations." I sighed, really Mom? Why are you so embarrassing? Annabeth laughed and nodded her head, "of course."

Although I did smile at that. I am bored now that I can't leave the house and with a new friend! In the zombie apocalypse! My life couldn't get any better.

"Percy! Annabeth's gonna sleep in your room and you can either sleep on the couch or on the floor of your room." My mom yelled from the kitchen, I sighed and gave Annabeth a small smile.

"I'll show you my room I guess." As soon as I spoke, she looked at me startled. So I stared, startled, back at her.

"What?" I asked.

"Um, nothing. Just nothing." Annabeth blushed and looked down at the carpet. I shrugged my shoulders and continued walking. What was that about? I opened my door to reveal my blue room.

I don't mean gloomy, I mean blue. Everything. The walls, the bed, the carpet, the desk. Everything except the light. Annabeth gasped behind me. Ha! I told my mom my room was a jaw dropper.

I grinned as Annabeth walked into my room, her mouth opening and closing. Her eyes wide, "wow, it's um, very blue." Her voice sounded amazed and curious. She walked to the middle of my room and just turned in a small circle till her eyes set on back on me. She finally realized I was wearing a blue shirt, with dark blue jeans, light blue socks and dark blue and green shoes.

"I really like the color blue. A lot." I replied, a little sheepishly. Annabeth nodded her head.

"Why?" Annabeth sounded incredulous. Her eyes were absolutely astonished, almost carrying a bluish tint. Wait, her eyes weren't blue. Her eyes are grey, almost a sterling silver color. With little flecks of dark grey, like a thunder cloud.

"Uh, I was born in a boat and well, the color reminds me of the ocean, I don't think I'll go back to the ocean ever so I make it seem like it's always here." I blushed from the explanation, it was so embarrassing.

My dad was a sailor, he lived on a house boat because he saw the world coming to an end and decided to seclude himself from the world, taking a whole bunch of iodine and fish hooks. He set off to sea, promising to never come in contact with another human again.

But before he left, he met my mother. Who tried to convince him to stay with her but he wouldn't budge but he offered to take her on the boat. My mom agreed, wanting for her son to meet his father just once. When I was born my father told my mother that we could raise me on the boat, raise me to fend for myself.

My mom disagreed entirely, arguing that I should be raised on land. Around people, learning and meeting people, meeting someone. I still don't quite understand that. My mom had emphasized the word when she was telling me what had happened.

"There's no people left." I muttered to myself. That's what my father had said. Of course, there were people. For the next five years then my mom isolated us. She only ever so often went outside for groceries or schoolbooks. I'm now officially homeschooled. And I don't have to learn stupid things at all! I know basic presidents, basic ELA and sixth grade level, same with math but I only get taught twice a week.

Then it's fighting. My mom got a long stick from a tree outside the apartment building and duct taped all the stained cushions from my Step Father to the stick. I practice stabbing, dodging and regular hand to hand combat. Now that's my kind of thing. Fighting, I'm naturally good at it.

"There are people!" Annabeth stamped towards me. Her eyes stormy instead of that silver hue of blue grey. I immediately felt nervous. This weird sensation of she can kick my butt was almost like an instinct. Her fists were clenched at her sides. She has been across the country, during the zombie apocalypse. She can beat me up.

"I-I mean, li-ike there's no, no on-ne here." My voice stammered, I took a step back into the hallway. Her face inches away from mine. Her eyes furrowed in anger and she scowled at me. Backing away, giving me back my space.

"I came to New York, with two people. Luke and Thalia." Annabeth looked out at my window. As if she was looking for them.

"Thalia was like the cool, older sister I had always wanted. She was a punk, completely rebellious. She fought the zombies with a spear and a trash can lid with a cross bones painted in black across it. That meant death and she wanted to shove it in there faces when she killed them. The last thing any zombie she ever killed saw death. Every one of them died, she made sure of it." Annabeth sighed, and looked at her right ankle.

"About a month ago, I twisted my ankle. We were being chased by a horde, not a big one but maybe twenty fifteen zombies. Thalia couldn't carry me and her weapons but Luke could. Luke was sixteen. He carried me while Thalia fought the zombies. The last thing I saw was Thalia on the ground, the zombies crowding her." Annabeth choked on the last few words.

"Luke stayed with me for the next few days but I left, I ran away. He had a vial of zombie blood and every night he would take his pocket knife, cut his arm and drop some zombie blood in it. He told me that he would become unable to contract the disease. I didn't believe him, he became more angry, brash. His eyes turned red and his skin a pale yellow when I last saw him. I don't know where he is now or if he's a zombie but he's not there anymore. Not inside anyway." Annabeth eyes, I don't know why but her eye color kept changing and it was startling how fast they changed. One second a color the next, a different color.

Her eyes were pale, almost a whitish grey. It was kind of scary. A little terrifying, her eyes almost appearing see-through.

What has Annabeth been through?

A/N: How'd you guys like the chapter? I hope it's as good as it seems. I know I ended it kind of weird, more on a short note but I thought that it was something that could give an edge to both of them. Percy being slightly more attentive and aware of situations and Annabeth being more secluded and strong because of the apocalypse slightly changing some things in their personalitys. I just added to some things and took a little bit of some stuff away, nothing drastic. Anyway, so this chapters question is…

If Annabeth lived in San Francisco, California when she was seven. She ran away then, so how did she get all the way to New York by herself?

Review and answer the question!

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back. Sorry for not posting yesterday, I was really busy with family matters so I didn't have time to post. However I feel really smart right now because I've figured out what to do with my other PJO story. It's just a multi oneshot story for Solangelo if you want to read. Anyway, I'm thinking that'll it be a side story. Like if I wanted to write something ultra fluffy that didn't fit the plot of the story currently, I could write a one shot for Solangelo that's ultra fluffy. Make sense? Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter!

-…

Sally POV

It had been two months since Annabeth had come into our lives. She was intent on isolating herself but Percy seemed set on making her his friend. They didn't get along very well, bickering like siblings. It was adorable. They even had nicknames for eachother.

Percy called Annabeth," Wise Girl." Because apparently she knows everything about zombies and everything else. Annabeth calls Percy, "Seaweed Brain." Because she says that all the seaweed on the boat had replaced his brain and made him stupid. It was funny. Extremely funny. He blushed every time she called him that, she blushed every time he called her Wise girl.

They were so cute together, as close as siblings. Apparently, Annabeth had never seen, Finding Nemo. Percy made it his mission to educate her on the amazingness of Finding Nemo. Annabeth seemed to really like the movie but always diagreeed with Percy when he said it was the best movie ever. She always said, our lives our the best movies ever.

I never quite understood that, it seemed so metaphorical for a twelve year old. Well, this twelve year old had traveled the length of the country by herself since she was seven. I had to give her credit, I probably couldn't do that now, not even when I was seven.

I couldn't help but try to empathize with her. I tried, I tried very hard to imagine the hard ships she had seen and went through. But every time I think of my own nightmares, Percy not being able to defend himself, being eaten in front of Percy, turning into a zombie in front of Percy. I just can't imagine, I just can't place myself in her shoes.

"Percy!" Annabeth screeched followed by a loud crash. This was how the children played. Seeing how much they can renovate the apartment, knocking down walls into the next apartment.

But this time it was different.

"Annabeth!" Percy yelled. Now Percy doesn't yell, he screams whether he's watching a movie and something scares him or he's being tickled. He only yells when there's something serious happening.

Zombie.

I ran into the family room, knife in hand. No, no, no. Not them, not my little babies!

My eyes practically exploded at the sight in the room.

Annabeth was holding down the bloated zombie's limbs, Percy had his baseball bat. Riptide, that silly old baseball bat he used to play with as a kid. Even if it was nailed with nails, cracked in certain areas.

Percy was bashing the to zombie's head in. The blood spurting from under the bat and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gruesome act. It was so absurdly grotesquely disturbing I couldn't look away.

The zombie stopped moving, the groans slowly grew to a stop as Percy half heartedly continued to whack him. Annabeth stood up, sliding her dagger back into its place on her jeans.

"It's dead, Percy. " she said, her voice was even, calm. She had seen so much for someone so young, to have killed so many, to have killed in general.

"I know," he whispered, I could hear the waver in his voice. A slight tremble that signified he was gonna cry.

It was the first zombie he had ever killed.

"That was for everything you ever did to me, my family and my mother," Percy hissed, standing up he looked over at Annabeth and me. His eyes were filled with something I couldn't quite name but it seemed like accomplishment.

"I'm going to take a shower now," Percy walked out, moving so he didn't hit either of us as he walked to the bathroom.

"That was his first one wasn't it?" Annabeth asked, her eyes were slightly shining but she looked fine otherwise. I nodded my head.

"456," she inhaled sharply. "I've killed 456 zombies since I was seven. I was seven, six months and two days when I killed my first zombie."

She looked at me and I hope that horror wasn't portrayed in my eyes because she shook her head and walked into Percy's room. I had never killed a zombie, never fought one or anything. I was completely, utterly useless in this apocalypse. I knew it.

Annabeth knew it too.

I walked down the hallway, my knuckles hovering over Percy's door where Annabeth was. The quiet sniffles and muffled sobs were enough to make me pull away. To make me walk into the kitchen slowly with realization.

I need to send them.

To the haven of the world. A place ridden of zombies. That's what I need to do. Even if I don't want to, I need to save my sons life and now Annabeth's.

The shower turned on, the prosaic sound brought me back to the present and back to the gruesome sight in the family room. My nose wrinkled in disgust and I started on thinking of ways to get it out of here.

I'll send them, not now but eventually.

I'm not ready to let them go.

"Percy! Get out of the shower, and help me move this zombie!" I paused. "Annabeth you too!" I yelled again, never mind the zombies that might've heard the loud noise.

Percy came out of the shower, drops of water riveted down his arms and forehead, looking exactly like his father. Annabeth walked out of Percy's room, eyes red and cheeks slightly pink.

They both stared at the zombie in disgust, their teeth clenching and jaw's squaring. I couldn't help but laugh.

At the joyful noise they both then stared at me like I was crazy. Eyes wide and blown out of proportion.

"You two better figure out how to get this thing out of here because I am not sharing my nose plugs," I laughed as I walked down the hallway to my room. The I am not sharing my nose plugs," I laughed as I walked to my room. Of course they knew that threat was completely valid and it would definitely be held out.

Annabeth POV

I sighed in distaste, scowling at the zombie on the floor. You can't exactly call a zombie 'dead' because they already are.

"You ok?" Percy asked, his voice was curious and worrisome. I looked up at him, blinking away the wetness in my eyes. I can't cry in front of him.

"Yeah, why?" I faked a smile yet it probably looked like a grimace. Percy's look of worrisome went to one of doubt.

"You sure you don't need a hug?" Percy drawled, his tone mocking. My smile went to an annoyed smirk.

"You wish."

"Nah, I don't wish. I just give!" Percy exclaimed before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. I screeched and tried to push away from him but he wouldn't budge.

"Not until you say you like my hugs!" I tried to hold back the laughs at his immaturity but giggled as he hugged me.

"Never!" I exclaimed as I failed another attempt to wriggle free. A sudden idea popped in my head. It seemed mean yet smart at the same time.

"Wait, at least let me turn around," I said, turning around slightly. Percy's arms loosened slightly and I was able to turn to face him.

His whole face was blushing profusely, his cheeks instead of a pasty tan were now as red as strawberries. My face felt slightly heated but other than that I was ok with sudden close proximity between us. It was just to get out of this hug. Nothing more nothing less.

I leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. Even his skin felt hot! Yet sweet but that's besides the point! Percy's arms immediately let go and his left hand pressed slightly against his cheek.

I jumped out of his embrace, my lips tingling.

"So how are we gonna get him out of here?"

That pending question rung throughout their heads with the impending silence. It wasn't awkward. The silence was comfortable, filled with some sort of understanding that comforted each of them.

A/N: Hey guys! That chapter had a little bit of a rushed ending but I really could not come up with a way to move the zombie. So I'm going to leave that as the question for this chapter. How do you think they moved the zombie and where did they move it to. Now, I do know that Percy and Annabeth are only twelve but I could truly see Annabeth using that maneuver to get her way. I can't remember if she had done that in the PJO series but I added it in here. See you guys later!

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted in a while but I've been super busy with school work and almost all of my classes are really stressful and are making my anxiety act up like crazy and my stress level are super high right now. I know I shouldn't make excuses but I don't think that posts will be constant unless there's at least a week long break(minus Christmas and New Years, I actually have somewhat of a social life) so I hope you guys are still enjoying my stories and such. Please bare with me and wait for my updates, I will try my best to post as often as possible!**

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